


On an Island in the Sun

by yogabagabah



Category: Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 20:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1616534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yogabagabah/pseuds/yogabagabah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is said that a universe is created the moment a possibility is perceived, making a tree of infinite branches, each representing a life that could have been. So maybe it's not so impossible to believe that there was a time and place where we lived happily. Lived without burdens, guilt, without war. In a life where we only had to exist for ourselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lovefool

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set in modern times in the sunny state of Hawaii

Kamina wiggled his toes in the burning sand, burrowing his exposed feet under a layer of grit to shade them from the blistering heat of the sun. With a board in his lap he begins to wax at the glossy surface, occasionally singing along to the songs playing from some distant sun bathers' radio. "Love me, love me, say that you love me..."  


The day was perfect. One of those days that soak into your skin and clean your inside, ridding you of every unpleasant feeling until it seems a great weight has somehow leaked out of all your pores, leaving you light and airy. It was the perfect time to dick around at the beach. He'd called up some of his high school buddies earlier that morning, and they all readily agreed to a day of fun in the sun, especially since it'd be one of their last before everyone gets shipped off to college. They met at their usual spot while the sun was still just barely caressing the horizon. What proceeded was three hard hours of nonstop volleyball filled with sweat, skinned knees, and one unfortunate instance when Zorthy unexpectedly swung Kamina up on his shoulder, for sure painting a plum bruise on his abdomen, and then promptly hauling him into the salty sea.  


Kamina briefly paused in his waxing and ran tan fingers through his hair. The blue tendrils had long since crusted, and he could only imagine what ungodly shape they had molded into. Sitting dry up shore for so long had left his wet suit sweltering. He quickly unzipped down to his waist, letting the cheap black suit pool around his waist in that awkward fashion. After a quick roll of the shoulders and a crack of the neck, he returned to the cherry red board, circling, circling, circling.  


"Oh, Kittan, hon, you're getting as red as a lobster. Here let me put some sunscreen on you-"  


"MOM! Please! Could you not?!?...oh my god-no. Wow. Just kill me...." A gaggle of girly laughter drowned out the rest of his mutterings.  


Kamina's eyes flickered at the commotion. A family of six stood on the boardwalk, all clad in various summer apparel. The source of the disgruntled complaints was the tallest member of the group. Hunched over in clear discomfort, the boy's face was indeed red, though whether that was because of some sensitivity to sun exposure or the blood rushing to his cheeks as his doting mother lovingly applied smears of white, filmy sun-block to his face, he could not discern. Kamina chuckled at the display and continued to listen as he attended to his board.  


"Oh Kit Kat, Hawaii is so far away. Who's going to make you baby omelettes? Who are you going to call to bail you out of jail? Who will do your laundry and fold it just like you like it?"  


The boy gave a strangled yell. "MOM! We made a deal! Please, dear lord, to all there is holy promise you won't ever call me that in public again. And what the hell are you talking about? I can take care of myself just fine. And what? Are you seriously telling me you expect I'll stoop to such criminal activities?" His eyes were wide and exasperated. The boy's mom just laughed sweetly and wrapped her arms around her husband.

"Well, son. You always have seemed to take after your mother. And woah-ho-ho was she a wild thing back in the day. I can't tell you how many compromising positions I found your mother in when I came across her out on the town. You know what I mean?" The boy's beefy father proceeded to waggle his eyebrows up and down along his forehead. His son stared back at them, eyes empty and soul most likely traumatized at the mental image.  


"I swear every second I spend with you two is one more year I'll need to spend on the couch of some over-priced therapist. I'll be in debt up to my eyeballs and beyond by the time I get even close to resolving the long-lasting effects of your disturbing parenting."  


At this point, Kamina felt the tight pressure in his chest come to a peak, and without further delay a hearty, bellowing laugh escaped from his mouth. The sulky teen's attention was immediately caught and his eyes zeroed in on Kamina's laughing form. Upon laying sights on the hysterical surfer, the boy's features crumpled into irritation and in his self-consciousness at being caught in the midst of embarrassing family dynamics, rubbed up the back of his buzzed head and then ruffled the golden mass of hair sitting wildly on top.  


By that time Kamina had long finished waxing his board and figured it was about time to catch some waves before the water was crowded by beach goers. Still chuckling, he swiftly stood up, ignoring the burning sensation beneath his feet. He made quick work to rezip his wet suit, covering the detailed expanse of blue swirling tattoos painting his back and shoulders. Readjusting his board in his arms, he turned to jog toward the foamy waves but stopped last second. He cast a glance over his shoulder only to meet the gaze of the golden-haired lobster, face still set in a scowl though it was less pronounced now. Kamina gave him a cheeky grin then winked suggestively before sprinting off to the ocean's sparkling edge. Not at all catching the subtle darkening of the disgruntled teenager's already burnt skin.  


"Oh Kit Kat, your face! You burn so easily..."  


"UGH. THAT'S IT!"


	2. Island in the Sun

It's been a week into Kittan's first semester of school, and he's adapted very well with only a few awkward slip ups. Nothing too embarrassing like your roommate walking in while you're in the middle of jacking your meat stick. No, nothing like that. Three loud, noisy sisters was enough of a lesson to never make that mistake. His hiccups were mostly those of the typical freshman. Sleeping in and being late to class. Getting lost on campus. Locking himself out of his dorm. He could brush those off easily. No biggie. His roommate was even half- way decent, if this first week's interaction is any show of character. Iraak seemed down to earth and sociable, one of those personable types that was hard for anybody to clash with. Kittan could admit he really lucked out with that one.  


Not ready to greet the day, he stared at the ceiling until he went cross-eyed and rainbow dots peppered his vision. After a quick shake of the head, he finally decided to take a peek at the clock. Rolling his head backwards toward the bedside table directly behind him, Kittan managed to read 8:23. It was a Friday. Which meant, according to his schedule, he would not have class till 1:00. It was right after lunch and his only class of the day, a fact for which he was grateful.  


He settled back into the comfortable, warm dip in the bed with a noisy sigh, bringing his hands up to his hair to grip and comb soothingly with his fingers. He hadn't gone to the gym since arriving at UH, save for the mandatory tour at the beginning of every student orientation. Kittan had been dying to get back in the flow of things but hadn't found the time. He pondered for a few moments more before deciding to go now for a few hours, saving just enough time for a quick shower and bite before his history lecture. He flopped his arms down to the bed, and that's when he noticed Iraak standing at the tiny dink ass sink in the corner, meticulously flossing his teeth. At Kittan's noisy movements, Iraak glanced at his roommate's reflection and met his eyes. He pulled the floss out of his mouth.  


"So Kittan, apparently a big group of the upperclassmen throw this get together at the beach every first Friday night of the school year. From what my brother says, it sounds pretty cool. You wanna go?"  


Kittan threw the covers off his body and hopped up to his feet. "Hell yeah I wanna go. When and where?" He turned his back to hunch over the pile of clean clothes dumped in the bottom of his closet, searching for a pair of shorts and his MMA club shirt.  


"Uh, I think 8:00 o'clock? Not sure about the place. I'll ask my brother and text you the address." He stuffed his fingers back in his mouth, desperately trying to reach those back molars.  


"Cool. Thanks, dude. Okay. I probably won't see you till after lecture, so see ya around." By this time Kittan had already donned his wrinkly ensemble and thrown on a pair of his favorite running shoes. He waved a goodbye to Iraak as he headed through the door, getting a garbled 'later' in return."  


The rec center was fairly easy to recognize, so he found it with very little difficulty. Blissfully, the building contained only sparse groups of people, and Kittan had his pick of the treadmills. He chose one facing the ocean, making a note to take a run on the beach some morning, and proceeded to run 5 miles without stopping. He hit the weights soon after. Once he was dead tired, he grabbed a quick shower then headed to the food court for a sub and some chips.

He chose a wooden table outside, plopping his ass on the table top and setting his feet on the bench. After delicately unwrapping his sub, he ripped into the sandwich, ravenous after his long, much needed work out. He sat there quietly and enjoyed the typically pleasant Hawaiian breeze as it drifted over his damp nape and the wet hair sticking to his forehead. He hadn't felt so at peace since the day before Kiyoh was born. God knows it's been hell since the world was graced with the first of the Bachika sisters. He grimaces at the storm of unpleasant memories which bombard his mind's eye with irritating fervor.  


Noticing the time on his phone, he throws away his trash and gives his shirt a cursory wipe for crumbs before jogging off to his dorm for his backpack.

 

Kamina paused in rolling up the sleeves of his light cotton button up to grip his calf, the muscle going into painful spasms. He grimaced at the uncomfortable, sharp pain as he rubbed and kneaded his leg. He must have over done it at the beach the other day or something. After finishing with rolling up both sleeves, Kamina slipped on his blue board shorts and stepped into some flip flops. He raked his fingers through his hair and turned toward the mirror on the wall.  


Hands on his hips, he observed his appearance. Being thoroughly satisfied with the image, he gave his reflection a wink and a cheeky grin, then grabbed his keys and exited his room. He was just about to head downstairs when he heard the lilting voice of a girl coming from the adjacent bedroom. Kamina tip toed to his brother's room and poked his head from behind the door. Simon was sat in his trashy beanbag chair, controller in hand, face contorted in obvious bewilderment.  


Not a foot away was a petite wispy haired girl, decked out in pastels and sitting, ankles crossed, in Simon's leather desk chair.  


"Are you sure you've never played video games before?" Simon's pubescent voice was laced with equal parts confusion and awe. Kamina glanced at the small TV screen and noticed they were playing Dark Souls. He watched in fascination as the mysterious girl's player proceeded to expertly kill three monsters in quick succession. Simon's character stood inert and useless.  


"Oh I'm quite certain. But I'm very pleased you invited me over. I didn't know how much I'd enjoy playing these games." She smiled at Simon sweetly, tilting her head in that dangerously adorable fashion. Kamina knew Simon was doomed, and his predictions were soon confirmed by the sight of Simon's cheeks drowning in blood. He quickly said a small prayer on Simon's behalf then quietly shut the door.  


He hopped down the stairs two at a time and swung into the kitchen. His mom was at the breakfast table, head bent over the array of papers spread on the table top.

"Ey, makuahine. Did you know Simon has a girl in his room?" He grabbed the orange juice out of the fridge and a glass from the cabinet. His mom remained bent over the stacks of papers.  


"M-hm. She's a classmate from school. Nia I think. She's a wonderfully sweet girl. Very genuine."  


"Huh. Who knew Simon's got game? I just took a looksie upstairs. She's demolishing him with her charm and mad video game skills. Definitely a keeper. Might even be time to pass on the Talisman of Manly Ascendance." He raised his glass of juice as if to toast his little brother, pride garnering tears in the corner of his eye.  


His mom looked up at the statement, pen hovering over the paper, face blank and smooth as marble.  


"You mean that ratty, thrift store shark tooth necklace you're so protective of? Don't be ridiculous." She returned to her work having thoroughly crushed Kamina's enthusiasm.  


"Tch. You're a woman. You wouldn't understand the importance of recognizing the achievement of manly spirit." He couldn't see her roll her eyes, but the exasperation radiated off her hunched shoulders. "Anyway I'm going to the bonfire. Probably won't get back till late so don't wait up for me."  


"Malama pono, Kamina"  


"I will!"

 

He parked at the end of the long row of cars in the car park right near the beach. Hopping out, Kamina kicked off his flip flops and threw them in the back seat. He walked barefoot along the sand toward the bonfire which was already large and crowded by people. He waved at several familiar faces as he approached the congregation of logs circling the fire. Clusters of people were laughing, eating, hands holding beers or punch. Kamina was just about to join Zorthy by the drinks chest when he caught sight of a familiar head of hair: buzz cut topped with a wild mass of golden hair. He smirked and casually approached the boy where he was sat on the log. When he was directly behind the unaware teen, he crouched down and flung an arm over his shoulders, bringing his lips up to his ear to whisper, "Long time no see Kit Kat."  


The boy whipped his head to the left, almost ramming into Kamina's forehead. His eyes were wide with shock, mouth hanging slightly open. Kamina's eyes crinkled as he smiled widely at Kittan's thoroughly flabbergasted expression. The blonde jumped to his feet and turned to watch as Kamina smoothly stood to his full height, sliding his hands into his pockets and then relaxing into a slouch. Kittan looked at the newcomer with the flickering light of the fire. Cocky expression. Electric blue hair. He'd seen him from a considerable distance that day, but his appearance was unmistakable.

Kittan jerked to point a finger at Kamina's chest. "You're that dirty little eavesdropper from the other day. Heard of privacy much?"  


"You were the one being loud. In public I might add. A public beach. Sputtering and blushing like a maid. I can never resist a hearty laugh." Kittan's scowl intensified, his eyebrows raising so high on his forehead they almost brushed his hairline.  


"Then common courtesy? Ever heard of that?!" Kamina spied a redness start to seep up Kittan's neck. So easy to work up.  


"Hey. Kit Kat. Don't sweat it. I'm sure no one noticed you blithering away to dear ol' ma and pa while your comely sisters stood nearby." Kamina gave a low whistle. At this point, Kittan's blood pressure was probably approaching lethal heights. Face fire engine red, he leapt gracefully over the log he'd previously been sitting on, bringing himself closer to Kamina till they were nearly nose to nose. Kamina had a good inch on Kittan, but that meant little when Kittan's temper entered the equation.  


"Okay, bag of dicks, you say one more word about my sisters or even mention that offensive nickname, I'll make sure the damage is permanent." Kamina could feel the manly testosterone pulsing in the air. Kittan was hardly kidding. Up close, Kamina was able to see the little scar right above his left eyebrow, another line on his chin, his nose with a barely perceptible bend. His eyes glanced down to the clenched fists hanging tensely on either side of Kittan's body. The knuckles were covered with several white crisscrosses. He was obviously a fighter. Kamina always liked a good fighter.  


He suddenly let out a laugh, startling Kittan who wasn't expecting such a jolly reaction, and once again swung his arm onto the blonde's shoulders. "You're way too easy to rile up, bro. You need to loosen up or we'll never have a good time." He smiled disarmingly down to the ever-shocked Kittan.  


"Whoa whoa whoa," Kittan tried to shrug and tug away from Kamina, but the arm suddenly had him in a vice grip. "Who said anything about hanging out with you?!? You really are an arrogant piece of shit. Here's an idea. Why don't you go fuck yourself?" Kittan continued to struggle and Kamina only brought him closer.  


"Oioioi, Zorthy!" Kamina raised his other hand high above his head. A thin, wiry man turned at the yell. Kittan immediately didn't like the look of him. He was wearing aviator sunglasses-what a douche-had the makings of a scraggly goatee, and worst yet, a goddamn cigarette dangling from his lips. Fuck, he needs one.  


The so called Zorthy approached the two, one arm behind his head, the other holding a beer. "Oioioi, Kamina. Finally drug your scrawny ass down here I see." He lifted the ciggy from his lips and looked Kittan up and down. "Who's the broad? A little masculine for your tastes isn't she? Or are you trying something new?"

Kamina turned to look at Kittan and snorted at the sight. His face was twisted into a constipated scowl and the pressure mounting in his skull was sure to pop out his eyeballs at any moment.  


"What can I say? The chicks and dicks can't get enough of The Kamina." He slicked his hair back as he said this, looking more and more like the flaunting peacock he is. Kittan wanted to vomit. How the hell did he even end up on this train of humiliation? He opted not to say anything and just ride it out. Besides, it seems like they get some sick satisfaction from provoking him. He didn't want to give it to them that easily. He breathed deeply in through his nose, crossed his arms, and settled back into Kamina's arm. Kamina looked down and arched an eyebrow, then slowly lifted the corner of his mouth, as if to show that he knew exactly what Kittan was trying to do. He slid his arm off Kittan's shoulders and took a step away. Kittan instantly relaxed and sighed with relief. Zorthy, completely used to Kamina's antics, just rolled his eyes and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, gesturing for Kittan to take one.  


Kittan looked surprised at the kind offer, but raised his hands and shook his head. "Sorry, man, I'm trying to kick it. God knows I'm gasping for one, but I just can't." Kamina knocked their elbows.  


"What? Can't give in to temptation for even just one night?" Kamina nicked one from the pack before Zorthy could stow them away, bringing it to his lips then leaning his head to Zorthy expectantly. Zorthy groaned and whipped out his lighter. Kamina nodded in appreciation, took a long drag, then exhaled. He noticed Kittan looking longingly at the cigarette in his hand and brought it up teasingly, moaning in appreciation as the nicotine worked its magic.  


Kittan gave an exasperated yell and yanked hard on his hair with one hand. "You dirty, rotten bastards. You don't have to rub it in my face. Trust me, if I didn't have an extremely good reason not to, I'd be smokin' like a train."  


Zorthy blew smoke into his face, "So what's the excuse?"  


Kittan suddenly put on a glum face and crossed his arms self-consciously. "My trainer. She'd kill me if she found out. Last time she even caught me smelling like cigarette smoke I couldn't walk without waddling for at least a week."  


Both Zorthy and Kamina looked intrigued, but Kittan had already been embarrassed enough for a lifetime in this one measly week and he'd rather not relive those horrifying hours with Yoko that one day after school. He couldn't contain the automatic shudder that convulsed through his body.  


The sound of car doors slamming could be heard in the distance, but Kittan didn't look up till he heard someone call out, "Iraak!" His roommate walked awkwardly through the sand, his older brother, Kidd, trailing not far behind. The sight of Iraak was like the second coming and Kittan couldn't be more relieved. Kamina was just about to voice what was sure to be another cocky, vulgar, and/or rude comment when Kittan quickly excused himself, gesturing to his roommate. He hopped off in that direction, a smile breaking his face as he approached the ponytailed idiot.

"Iraak, dude, you will not believe what just-"  


"Eyyy, Iraak, right? We're in calculus II together right? With Professor Plank?" There Kamina stood in all his glory, hand extended for a handshake toward the startled Iraak, charming smile donning his face. Iraak shot Kittan a befuddled look. The blonde could do nothing but cradle his face with his hand.  


"Uh, yeah I believe so. Pretty sure I've seen your, erm, eye-catching hair in the back of the hall." Iraak timidly slotted his hand into Kamina's. Kittan lifted his eyes back up and gave Kamina a hard, calculating stare. He couldn't understand why this pompous ass was being so goddamn persistent. It was beginning to feel like Kittan had been caught in quicksand. The more he tried to move, the farther he sank to the depths of hell.  


He watched for a moment longer as Iraak stuttered through a conversation with Kamina, faced with the latter's unsettling, wolfish grin. Having had enough of the interfering bastard, he lashed a hand out and pulled Kamina by the back of his shirt to face him. Kamina's stupid face was irritatingly unaffected.  


"Okay. What is your problem? Ever since I saw your face you've been pissing me off. Are you intentionally trying to provoke me?" Kittan huffed out a hot puff of air.  


Kamina's face took on a more serious expression. Kittan noticed his eyes seemed substantially dimmer.  


The blue-haired bastard, though apparently the king of provocation, was impenetrable to Kittan's spit-fire. Cool and unafraid, Kamina returned his hands to his pockets and shrugged in the direction of the car park, clearly indicating for the blonde to follow him. Kittan wondered if Kamina always expected people to follow; he wondered if anyone could resist.  


Still humming with irritation, he jogged after Kamina, determined to try to regain control of the situation.  


"Look, Kamina-or whatever your name is: I don't know what made you suddenly decide to run for asshole of the year, but I'd really fucking appreciate it if you'd take me off the "who to shit on" list. I didn't-  


"Kat. I'm not trying to be an asshole to you. I'm interested in you." At this point Kittan had completely frozen his stride, air suddenly difficult to take in. Kamina turned, walking backwards, and shot him a charming grin.  


"I didn't realize you'd be so sensitive to my amicable personality. If I had known, I would have approached the situation more...delicately." Kamina's obvious teasing pushed Kittan into action, and suddenly he was lunging through the air. The sound of flesh on flesh resounded throughout the beach as a fist pounded into a muscular chest. Kamina laid flat on the ground, a stream of sounds caught between a laugh and a groan spilled from his mouth. He rubbed the tender skin and turned to see Kittan on all fours beside him.

"Should I expect more of this behavior from you in the future? 'cause, I gotta be honest, I find it pretty exciting."  


Kittan lifted his head to look Kamina in the face. "I swear you are the most sadistic, masochistic, annoying son of a bitch I've ever met." He sat on his heels and peered down at Kamina who was still sprawled on the sand. "I'd be surprised if every person you passed on the street, at some point in time, didn't fantasize about punching that stupidly perfect nose."  


Kamina just shrugged. "Perhaps. Though you're the only one who's come close." He propped himself up with his hands. "I think we're off to a good start, ya know? A very promising beginning to this blossoming relationship." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together.  


"So what do ya say Kit Kat?" Kamina had suddenly whipped his head toward Kittan and brought his face uncomfortably close to the blonde. Kittan unconsciously jerked back.  


"Uh, about what?"  


"You, me, and the big blue sea." Kamina reached out toward the horizon in his theatrical manner. "We have a shitty year of freshmen college in front of us. Boring classes, apathetic professors, and assignments out the ass. But with you there, well, I'd think that'd make for an amusing distraction don't you think?"  


Kittan raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. "Ya know, I can't ever tell if you're propositioning me or making an ass out of me? Either way, you're a dick, and I won't let you shamelessly use me as a source of entertainment. Find someone else to satisfy your pervy needs."  


"Kit Kat, you wound me! Why dost thou deny thy love?" Kamina flung a hand to his forehead. Kittan promptly shoved him back to the ground and rubbed a fist-full of sand in his face. Kamina sputtered and struggled. Kittan laughed, and continued to do so for the rest of the night. By the time he fell into his bed in the wee hours of the morning, his stomach was tender and his cheeks were sore.  


He smiled into his pillow at the thought of the blue-haired bastard. It had been a good night.


End file.
